


Remember Your Big-Boy Words

by Chianine



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: HYDRA Trash Party, Infantilism, M/M, baby talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:43:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2652464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chianine/pseuds/Chianine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For years, the Soldier was infantilized by Hydra for both business and pleasure.</p>
<p>Now it's Steve's job to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember Your Big-Boy Words

_There are still flecks of blood and skull on his face when he is brought to his cell. The Soldier isn't concerned with that, though. He knows he has done well and is looking forward to his reward._

_“All right, coochie-coo.” The Commander motions for him to take a seat on the stained mattress. “I've got something for you...”_

_Out of the Commander's pocket comes a bright object. The Soldier reaches for it, but the Commander pulls it away, laughing. “Just kidding, here's your binkie.”_

_Eagerly the Soldier takes it and puts it in his mouth. The Commander crouches in front of him, pulling a few stray hairs out of his eyes. “I've got to go do something, but when I came back, maybe we can play Santa Claus. You like that game, right?”_

_The Soldier nods. That game is much preferable to Farm Animals or Doctor's Office. Much less painful._

_“And if you're really good,” the Commander taps him on the nose, “maybe there'll be an extra present for you...”_

 

 

 

The automatic dishwasher was one of modern life's greatest improvements.

Steve was rinsing dishes under the faucet and cheerfully loading the machine when he saw Bucky approach and stand beside him with a cup in his hand.

“Just put it on one of the racks,” Steve said.

“No, I want some wa-wa.”

“What?” Steve asked, since he obviously hadn't heard correctly.

“Wa-wa.” Bucky held his cup out to Steve.

Steve turned the sink off. “Sorry, I still didn't hear you, Buck...”

“Wa-wa.” Bucky repeated firmly, then squeezed between Steve and the dishwasher to help himself to the sink. 

Steve watched slack-jawed as Bucky filled his cup.

“Thank you,” he said, sipping wa-wa as he walked out of the kitchen.

“Bucky,” Steve called.

Bucky turned back.

“You call that _wa-wa?”_

“That's what it is,” Bucky answered, shrugging.

“No, that's water. Wa-ter. Not wa-wa. Don't use that word. That's not... appropriate.”

“Fine. Water.”

 

Wa-wa was still on Steve's mind after he cleaned up the kitchen and sat down with Bucky to watch a film. He didn't pay attention – all he could think of was that word, and the way Bucky had used it without any irony or goofiness. He seriously thought that's what you called water. Steve tried to forget about it, believing it was nothing really to worry about in light of how well Bucky had been adjusting to his new life.

The film finished and Bucky looked over to Steve and yawned. “Well,” he said tiredly, “I'm ready for nigh-night time.”

Steve stared back at him for a few seconds before asking, “What?”

“Nigh-night time. I'm seepy.”

Steve felt tips of his ears blushing, he was so embarrassed for his friend. Gently he said, “You mean you want to go to bed, right?” 

“Yeah. You'll tuck me in?”

Steve _had_ sort of been tucking Bucky into bed for the last two weeks, but hadn't thought anything of it because he wanted to comfort him and make him feel safe. But now... 

Steve sighed. “Yeah, sure I will, buddy.”

Bucky got in bed Steve tucked him in tight. 

“Can you give me that blankie?” Bucky pointed at an old afghan draped over a chair. 

“The word for that is blanket, Buck.” Steve spread the blanket over him and sat down on the bed. “Bucky, I don't know where you got all these words from – blankie, wa-wa, seepy, nigh-night time – but you can't talk like that, okay?”

Bucky stared back, confused shame written all over his face. Steve hated seeing that look.

“They're bad, those words?” Bucky asked.

“They're not bad...They're just words for babies, not grown-ups,” Steve answered, wondering at himself for using the term _grown-ups_. “You're an adult, and you should use adult words. Don't worry, I'm not mad at you, just when I tell you what the right words are, try to remember them and use them instead.”

“Blanket, water...” Bucky was counted two words on his fingers before he was stumped.

Steve raised his eyebrows, waiting for more ~~grown-up~~ adult words.

“What about nigh-night time? What's the good word for nigh-night?”

“Just, when you're tired you say you're going to bed.”

Now Bucky was hopelessly lost. “So how do I say nigh-night time?”

“You don't,” Steve said. “There's no nigh-night time. You just say “I'm tired” or “I'm going to bed.” That's it.”

Bucky clearly didn't like this, but he accepted it.

“Good night, Bucky.”

“Good night.”

Steve walked over to the door and asked, “You want it open or closed?”

“Open,” Bucky answered, “and leave the hall light on!”

Steve sighed as he switched the light on and walked to his own room. At least he didn't have to check for monsters under the bed.

 

Bucky had been doing better everyday, even with the baby talk. He would often slip, especially with commonly-used words like _blankie_ and _wa-wa_ but he always corrected himself. Steve still didn't know how the baby talk had started, but he didn't want to press Bucky too hard about it because he was clearly embarrassed. Bucky didn't understand what made a word a baby talk word but he knew it was something that made people think you're stupid.

The only word they were struggling with was _potty,_ but that was understandable because ~~potty~~ bathroom things had become a major part of their relationship. Bucky would absolutely not go to the bathroom unless Steve gave him explicit permission, and since he was usually desperate when he asked, Bucky forgot the proper word and Steve wasn't going to correct him at a time like that. The word was contagious, though. Steve started thinking it in his mind, and when Bucky would be hopping around on one foot, or crossing his legs, or flat-out squeezing himself, Steve's direction was always, “Go potty.” Only after Bucky ran to the restroom would Steve realize what was happening to his vocabulary.

Not only did Bucky need permission to ~~go potty~~ use the restroom, he would often be afraid to ask, so Steve found himself tracking Bucky's liquid intake and frequency of ~~potty~~ bathroom usage to guess when he might need to go. Steve thought more about Bucky's bladder than he did. He was shocked to hear himself saying things like “You better go potty before the movie starts,” or “Don't drink too much soda, there's no potty at the park,” or even “That potty isn't clean, just go on the trail and I'll make sure no one sees your wiener.”

Bucky was afraid of strangers seeing his wiener penis. He wouldn't use a public restroom unless Steve would come in and guard him. One time, they had a full grocery cart and Steve couldn't follow him in, so they waited until the restroom was empty and Steve promised to stand by the entrance. Bucky called out to him three times while he ~~pottied~~ urinated to make sure Steve was still there.

Occasionally, Steve would ask “Bucky do you need to go potty?” and Bucky would say no, and Steve (especially if he had been drinking lots of fluids) would insist that Bucky give it a try. When Bucky came out, Steve would ask if anything came out and if the answer was yes, Steve would feel proud of himself. He knew just how to take care of his friend.

 

One morning Steve was going shopping and Bucky asked to stay home. Steve decided that would be fine, but made sure Bucky ~~went potty~~ urinated before he left. When Steve returned, Bucky was sitting on the couch, still in his pajamas and biting his fingernails. While Steve was putting groceries away he walked over, his face pale and his eyebrows scrunched together. Steve also noticed him cupping his privates. 

“Steve?”

Steve gave his automatic response. “Bucky, go potty.”

But Bucky just stood there.

Steve looked directly at Bucky and pointed at the bathroom. “Go ahead.”

“No, it's not...” Bucky stepped closer and whispered, “I have a boo-boo.”

“A what?”

Bucky looked away, like he already knew _boo-boo_ was a bad word. “A boo-boo.”

“A boo-boo?” Steve questioned. “Like, you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, a boo-boo.”

“A boo-boo _where_?” Steve felt anxiety kick in. His eyes searched Bucky's neck, face, and arms. He looked around the kitchen for blood.

Bucky stepped even closer, as if he was about to share a secret in a crowded room. His voice was barely a whisper. _”On my wiener.”_

Steve stared back into Bucky's unflinching eyes. He was deadly serious. 

Steve adopted Bucky's secretive tone. “You have a boo-boo...”

Bucky nodded.

“... on your wiener...”

Bucky was still nodding. His lip twitched and he gave his privates a hard squeeze.

“Well how did that happen?”

Bucky searched his mind for an explanation. “I... it was an accident. I didn't know...”

Steve's growing concern for Bucky's penis injury was making him impatient. “Didn't know what?”

“That it would burn like that...”

“Oh God,” Steve said, his imagination showing him all sorts of horrifying possibilities. “Let's go in the bathroom and take a look.”

A bright and minty scent overwhelmed Steve as he stepped into the bathroom. Probably toothpaste, he figured. Bucky must have just brushed his teeth.

Bucky shut the door and pressed his back against it. He stared wide-eyed at Steve, biting his lip. “Promise you won't be mad?”

“Of course not,” Steve promised. “Now pull down your jammies and let me see what you've done to your wiener – er – penis.”

“Okay...” Bucky pushed the waistband down to his knees and showed Steve a shriveled, red, and very unhappy-looking penis. Bucky sucked a breath through gritted teeth as the fresh air hit his affected flesh.

“Yikes!” Steve bent over to inspect. “Looks like a rash of some sort. You say you burned it?” Steve inhaled through his nostrils, noting an increase in the pungent odor he had sensed when he first stepped into the bathroom. He stood up again. “How?”

Bucky opened his mouth but only made a few choked sounds. Steve decided to look around the bathroom for clues, and his eyes instantly fell upon a blue tub of Vick's Vapo-Rub sitting suspiciously out-of-place on the sink.

“You promised you wouldn't be mad...” Bucky reminded him as soon as he picked it up.

“I won't,” Steve kept his voice calm, but stern, “but you need to tell me what happened.”

“I was... I wanted to... well, I wanted something slippery, so I -”

Steve covered his eyes in horror. “Oh my God, Bucky...”

“I'm sorry,” Bucky whined, sliding down the wall to the floor, wanting to make himself as small as possible.

“You're telling me that you used Vick's to... to _masturbate_? Steve asked.

Bucky stared back, confused.

Steve made a jerking motion with his hand and whispered, “To play with yourself?”

Bucky understood that, and nodded in reply.

Steve was torn between pity and exasperation. _“Why would you do that?”_

Bucky flinched at Steve's words and tucked his head between his knees. Seeing what he had done, Steve knelt down to comfort him.

“I liked the way it smelled,” Bucky explained in a muffled voice, “and it had the word “rub” on it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Did you try washing it off?”

Bucky lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at Steve. “Of _course!_ I'm not stupid.”

“Well, I guess we should have you soak in a hot bath for a few hours...” Steve shrugged, “At least your wiener will stay nice and warm.”

Bucky remained in the bath for the next six hours, until he displayed the most wrinkly fingers and toes that Steve had ever seen. They had spaghetti for dinner, which was served in the bathroom. Steve sat on the toilet, and Bucky balanced his plate on the side of the tub.

When Steve finally coaxed him out of the bathtub, Bucky's wiener was still giving him trouble. Steve set a tub of Vaseline on the counter and Bucky wanted nothing to do with it. Steve had to explain that although the containers looked similar, their effects on private parts were completely different. Then he told Bucky about its soothing properties and suggested that he put some of it on his burned wiener before getting dressed.

Bucky stood next to Steve, holding a towel over his groin. “You want me to play with myself... now?”

“No -” Steve answered, “or – I mean, you can, if you want to -”

“I don't.”

“That's what I thought. Just put it on like a salve.” Steve pointed at the tub, “And in the future, this is the only thing you should put on your wiener. Not Vick's, or toothpaste, or shaving cream. This and only this. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

Steve saluted the naked man and turned to leave him to it.

“Steve, wait!”

“What?”

“I don't – I don't want to touch it right now.” Bucky frowned.

“Okay, then just dry off, put your jammy trunks back on carefully and -”

“No, I want _you_ to put it on me.” Bucky stared down at his toes.

Steve cleared his throat and said, “uhm... okay.”

Bucky handed Steve the towel. “You dry it. I can't touch it, it's too sensitive.”

Steve dabbed him only a few times lightly. “That's good. It doesn't have to be perfect since we're gonna make it all goopy anyway.”

Steve set the towel down and coated his palms heavily with jelly. Bucky tensed up in anticipation. 

“I'm gonna use a lot so that I don't hurt you rubbing it around. You ready?”

Bucky braced himself on Steve's shoulders. “Yeah, do it.”

Steve took him in one hand and began smearing the jelly around softly with his fingertips. He could feel metal fingers digging in his shoulder. 

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” Bucky's thin whine was not convincing, “just tickles. Keep going.”

Steve knew Bucky was uncomfortable, but he wanted to make sure he was good and slathered. Bucky had probably rubbed the Vick's in all the nooks and crannies before he realized the damage he had done, so Steve had to be thorough. After there was a decent layer all around, Steve wrapped both hands around it and pulled a few times, not too hard, trying to work the jelly into the ridges and the little hole up top. When Bucky started stomping one foot and digging painfully into his shoulder, Steve sighed and decided that was just going to have to be good enough.

“All right, you're done,” Steve said. “Now turn the sink on for me and get dressed. Then you can pick a dessert out of the pantry.”

Bucky quickly jumped into his jammies and and flew out of the bathroom. 

“No soda, though!” Steve called after him. “It's almost nigh-night time for you and I don't want to be woken up at three am for potty permission!”

 

They went to the theater a few days later to see the new space movie in IMAX. Steve always got a large popcorn and a coke to share with Bucky (sharing made it easier to monitor his soda-intake.) They were getting their snacks as usual, only this time the clerk asked Steve if he wanted to purchase a second coke for only fifty cents more.

“No, thank you, this will be -”

“Pleeeeeeeease?” Bucky whined, jumping up and down and making pained noises.

“Fine. Another coke please.”

“Cherry Coke!” Bucky corrected.

The clerk looked to Steve before filling the cup, clearly assuming that Bucky was not the sort of person allowed to make their own decisions. 

Steve nodded. “Cherry coke.”

 

The theater was crowded, but Steve found them a good seat in the middle. They were just in time for the previews. Ten minutes later, as the feature was starting, Steve could hear a snorkeling sound coming from Bucky's straw. 

“Did you finish that thing already?” Steve whispered.

“Yeah.”

Steve noticed Bucky fidgeting and shaking his leg even before the astronauts launched into space. Then, when they had just landed at their destination, Bucky leaned into Steve's ear. “I gotta go.”

Steve was involved in the movie. “Then go.” 

Steve didn't turn his head from the screen, but in his peripheral he could see Bucky's shining eyes, staring right at him, waiting. “You have to come with me.”

“No, I don't. You're a big boy, and I don't want to miss anything.” There was a sting of self-reproach, but Steve tried to overcome it with a deep breath. He was enjoying the movie, and shouldn't have to chaperone his friend to the bathroom. Right?

Bucky remained in his seat for another few minutes, crossing his legs, bending forward, groaning, and generally making a show of himself until he finally stood up and stormed past the people in their row, stomping carelessly past (and probably all over) them and running down the aisle to the exit.

Steve was, to put it lightly, embarrassed.

Twenty minutes passed and Bucky had not returned. Steve had waited that long simply out of spite, but eventually he became worried that something really might have happened. He walked out to the lobby and found Bucky on a bench in front of the men's room, curled up in a ball and sobbing. Two kids with a janitorial cart were watching him from a distance, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

“Bucky -” Steve whispered hoarsely as he pulled him to his feet, “get up! What are you doing?”

“I can't go in there with all those men!” Bucky screeched.

Steve pushed him in the bathroom and in front of a urinal, Bucky barely getting his fly down in time for the rushing river that erupted from his wiener. When he had finished, Steve ordered him to wash his hands even though Bucky was already headed to the sink, and Steve tried to avoid noticing the weird looks they were getting. When Bucky started heading back to the theater, Steve called out to him.

“I'm going home. You know the way back, right?” Steve pushed the glass door and walked outside.

“Steve!” Of course Bucky came trailing behind him, and Steve knew he would. “What about your -”

“I'm not going to sit in there and wait until the next time you need to go potty!”

Steve walked swiftly down the street towards home, not bothering to look behind him. After a few blocks he stole a backward glance to see Bucky following him, head-down and hands in his pockets. Steve stopped and Bucky walked right into him.

It was time to confront the issue. “You wanna tell me what the big deal is about people seeing your wiener – or penis! _Penis!_ Look, you need to stop saying that word, you've got me saying it now, too!”

Bucky didn't seem to realize he had been asked a question. He just stood there, ready to be scolded.

After a short silence, Steve decided to clarify. “Explain to me why you can't use the bathroom on your own. There's no reason to be embarrassed. I've seen your penis a million times, and trust me Bucky, it's nothing to write home about.”

“Not embarrassed. Just... scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“The men. I don't want them to touch me. It hurts.”

“Touch you? Why would -”

It all made sense now. Steve couldn't believe how naïve he'd been. “Oh Bucky,” Steve stepped forward and took him in his arms. “no one's going to touch you anymore. Not while I'm around.”

“I know,” Bucky said. “That's why I want you there. I know you won't let them.”

 

Steve dropped the public potty thing for a while, instead choosing to focus on peeing without permission. He figured that if Bucky felt he had control over his own bodily functions, he would gain the confidence to be alone with other men in public restrooms. But it was a more difficult and heartbreaking project than Steve had initially envisioned.

He had to be careful with his words, though, because almost anything could be interpreted as permission. He couldn't say “pee if you wanna pee” or root him on with “Cmon Bucky, you can do it!” because that was giving him the go-ahead and he also couldn't say “no” because that was forbidding him. When Bucky would beg to use the bathroom with those big puppy-dog eyes, Steve would just have to close his eyes and plug his ears, even when the poor thing was wrapped around his leg, pleading and soaking his trouser leg with tears. 

At some point, the sound of Bucky's voice echoing in the bathroom, howling his mantra of “Steeeeeve! Say “Go potty, Bucky!” SAY “GO POTTY!”” became the soundtrack to life in their apartment. The neighbors complained once. Steve promised the noise would stop and went into the bathroom, finding Bucky standing over the toilet with nothing but a T-shirt on, his bare legs shaking while he held his penis and let tears stream down his face. 

It made Steve's heart ache to see him like that. “Go potty, Bucky.”

Bucky whimpered and finally let go, his legs almost giving out as he released his bladder. “Thank you,” he whimpered, repeating the words as he gazed at Steve gratefully. “Thank you so much, Steve.” Then all he could do was moan while what seemed like an eternity passed until he was done.

On the days when he didn't get permission, Bucky would inevitably wet the bed. His mattress was ruined, so he had to sleep on top of trash bags in Steve's bed. Steve decided that he was going to have to stay up until he peed so they spent a whole night in the bathroom drinking Red Bull until Bucky's belly looked like he was five months pregnant. When Steve himself finally reached maximum Red Bull capacity, he unzipped his pants and went right next to Bucky. At the sound of him unloading into the potty, Bucky relaxed and they crossed streams, Steve almost crying tears of joy. It was the first time Bucky had peed without permission.

After that, they went potty together whenever possible. Though Steve knew this was still a crutch, he remained thankful for small miracles. 

 

Although he had been trying to stay out of the spotlight, the series of hearings concerning SHIELD's collapse and the Hydra scandal eventually required Steve's participation. Everyone was still mostly concerned with Hydra's influence over SHIELD objectives and whether or not SHIELD should be reinstated, so most of the horrors of Hydra-specific operations (such as the Winter Soldier) hadn't really been broached yet. Which was fine because Bucky was still too delicate (in Steve's opinion) to give testimony.

What this meant for Bucky's wiener was that he was alone all day, without anyone to go potty with. This could be seen as a blessing or a curse. Either Bucky would learn to go on his own, without permission or company, or he would get a bladder infection. Steve hoped for the former.

When they were let out on the third day of hearings, Steve felt the urge to visit the little boy's room but decided to wait until he got home, guessing Bucky's teeth were probably floating after eight hours on his own. He burst through the front door and headed for the bathroom.

“Bucky, come on, I gotta go like you wouldn't believe!”

Steve ran into the bathroom and was fumbling with his fly. “Bucky! I'm going, then. I can't wait any longer!”

When Steve had finished, he walked out to the living room and found Bucky sitting on the couch, carelessly turning the pages of a coffee table book about vintage motorcycles. 

“Don't you need to go?” Steve asked. He didn't know what the first signs of bladder infection were, but he hoped disinterest in peeing wasn't one of them.

“No,” Bucky shrugged. “I went a little while ago,” he said, like it was no big thing.

Steve was flabbergasted. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

 

To celebrate Bucky's accomplishment, Steve promised him a treat. They went grocery shopping that night and Steve told Bucky he could pick out a present for himself – anything he wanted.

The store was crowded. Steve was busy trying to navigate the aisles, check the shopping list, and steer the cart without running over children, so he didn't notice when he left Bucky behind in the childcare aisle.

As he was comparing prices on toothpaste, he heard something land in his shopping cart. Then Bucky was beside him, smiling.

He looked in the cart. At first he couldn't tell what it was until he picked it up. A flesh-colored nipple attached to a beaded blue and yellow chain. The plug on the nipple had pictures of dancing teddy bears. It was a pacifier.

Horrified, Steve looked up at Bucky. “What is this?”

“Binkie!” he replied brightly.

Steve shoved it into Bucky's hands. “Put that back! It's for babies!”

The mirth drained from Bucky's face. “You said I was good for being a big boy and going potty by myself,” he shouted. _”You said I could have whatever I want!”_

People were staring. Steve grabbed the pacifier and threw it back in the cart, covering it with a bag of salad. 

 

They were barely in the door when Bucky started frantically searching grocery bags. He found what he was looking for and tore into the packaging viciously.

“Wash that thing off before you put it in your -”

Bucky already had the thing in his mouth, sucking it for all it was worth. He stumbled over to the couch and flopped down, leaving Steve to take care of the groceries.

After the kitchen was cleared up, Steve joined Bucky on the couch. Bucky said nothing, took no notice of Steve at all, just completely involved in his ~~binkie~~ pacifier. His eyes were unfocused under heavy lids. He looked drugged. He was sucking hard and rhythmically, cheeks hallowing out again and again. Steve wondered if he would tear the nipple right off with that kind of pressure. A few times he pulled it out with a wet pop and chewed the nipple between his teeth or tongued it softly. Then he would suck it back into his mouth and work it again, breathing heavy through his nostrils.

Steve could not look away. He squirmed uncomfortably, wishing he could say something or go somewhere else. Mesmerized, he watched Bucky suck, bite and lick at his new toy for several minutes. Finally, Bucky's eyes snapped over to his face and Steve dropped his gaze. He cleared his throat, as if he was about to speak, but had nothing to say.

Bucky sat up and pulled the binkie out with another excruciating pop. “You wanna try it?”

“What?” Steve asked, and then laughed nervously as Bucky presented his binkie. “No,” Steve said, pushing Bucky's arm back.

“Come on,” Bucky brought the nipple to Steve's lips, the rubber still warm and wet from his mouth. “I wanna share it with you, just like you share your things with me.”

The sentiment was so sweet that Steve just melted and opened his mouth for the pacifier. Bucky smiled broadly, and pushed it inside. “Now suck!”

Steve gave it a few hard sucks and found it eerily comforting. He tongued the rubber tip and even felt the urge to twist it around in his mouth and gnaw softly on it with his molars.

“You like it?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, I do, actually,” Steve answered, surprised to hear himself admitting it.

Bucky watched intently for a few more minutes, then suddenly jumped off the couch. “I need to go potty for a while,” he said.

Steve waited about five minutes, sitting on the couch and idly sucking on their binkie. He was really starting to understand the attraction to it. He hadn't heard the toilet flush but suddenly there was Bucky's head peeking around the corner of the hallway.

“Steve?” Bucky asked in the high, babyish voice he always used whenever he thought he was in trouble or wanted something he knew he shouldn't have. “I need you to help me with something...” He was averting his eyes and picking at a dent in the wall.

Steve pulled the pacifier out of his mouth. “Remember to use your big-boy voice. There's no babies in this apartment,” he said, pointing at Bucky with the binkie.

Bucky straightened up and looked directly at Steve. “I need help in the bathroom,” he started, his voice only a shade manlier. “I need you to put the medicine on my wiener.”

“What? What happened this time?”

Bucky shrugged and looked away again. “I don't know. It just... needs it.”

Steve sighed. “All right. I'm coming. Get in there and pull your pants down.”

Bucky skipped back to the bathroom.

Steve set the binkie on the couch and got up. “Let's take care of this before the game starts at seven. The Dodgers are in New York tonight and since the Mets stink this year this series should put them a couple games – _Jeez,_ Bucky...” Steve whistled when he walked into the bathroom and saw Bucky standing there, his pants around his ankles and his T-shirt tucked into his armpits. “... you're really swollen!”

“Yeah, I know. It hurts.”

Steve got the Vaseline out of the drawer and began rubbing a generous amount of it between his palms, getting it nice and warm.

“Okay, buddy, let's see what we can do...”


End file.
